The Set
by merryabandon
Summary: At her ball for Nee and Bran, Mel finds herself in the company of three of the most mysterious people in her life: Lady Elenet, the Duke of Savona... and the Marquis of Shevraeth.


Mel's dance with Shevraeth has just ended, and Savona asks her to join him in a set. What transpires? This is my first fanfic, so let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: Quite fortunately, the ingenious Sherwood Smith came up with Mel's story so that those like me don't have to think up a whole plot line. Kudos and credits go to her!

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When the music finally ended, I curtsied to Shevraeth and left to stand on the sidelines. A few more dances passed before I was asked to dance once again. It was Savona.

"Come, Lady Meliara, you mustn't waste your dancing shoes!" he called cheerfully. I laughed, enjoying the ridiculous idea of wasting dancing shoes. I'd been tapping my feet for most of the night, and I'd already danced with Shevraeth.

"I wouldn't be able to match your brilliance on the dance floor, with either new or well-worn shoes," I replied in his silly manner.

Savona's expression changed to one of amused self-mockery, which caused me, again, to wonder what his intentions were in making me popular. Nevertheless, he smiled at me and gestured towards Shevraeth and Elenet across the floor.

"Nonsense! How can _I _dance when I don't have a partner to make up for my lacking skills? We must have you dance. In fact, I have requested a set after this measure, and yet I am the one left without a partner. Come, they need another of us to join, and who else would my right senses allow me to invite?"

Initially seeing that Shevraeth would be dancing in a set with me made me want only more to pass this dance, but his cool, gray gaze turned to us and his mouth hitched just slightly. He leaned down to whisper in Elenet's ear, and then escorted her around the room and slipped up next to Savona.

"Is my lazy cousin inveigling you?" he drawled. Savona, in mock-startlement, whipped about to face him and placed his hand over his heart.

"Nevermore, Cousin, will I allow you to wear such stealthy shoes." We all laughed, nervously but in accord, and Savona reached out his hand to me. "Meliara, you would send me to my exile if I should not be permitted this dance."

His joking tone made me laugh again. I glanced at Shevraeth; he was smiling vacantly. And Elenet was all but detached from the moment. Something was going on….

"Come, this measure has ended, and soon the rest of the nobles will be clamoring for other entertainment if we do not make haste," Savona said as he held out his arm. I took it as Elenet walked up to Shevraeth. We stepped up onto the dance floor, and the musicians readied their instruments and the music began.

At first I was so self-conscious that I feared every moment I would make an irrevocable mistake. Every step that twirled the four of us around each other was a swim across the coldest, longest portion of the sea. But the sight of Savona's easy, reassuring smile and the distended attention of Shevraeth made me feel easier that these two, at least, wouldn't have cared if I suddenly started devising lyrics for the music. And for now, these were the only two whose opinions mattered in the entire room. _They_ were the leaders at court, and though they seemed already to favor me (Savona, at least; I still couldn't exactly speak on behalf of Shevraeth), it would be _their_ ultimate opinion of my ball that would decide if I survived at court for the next few days or not.

I relaxed in just a few short steps, and saw it register not only in Savona's face, but also in Shevraeth's and Elenet's. I swear the corners of the Marquis's mouth deepened with humor, and I blushed up to my hairline.

"I do believe you will start a fashion revolution," Savona remarked as he twirled me around. What could I say?

"A revolution, perhaps, but against my pursuit of making it of fashion," I replied, and that warranted a jolly laugh from Savona, a smile from Elenet, and a true if distracted laugh from Shevraeth.

Then Shevraeth glanced over and added, "Then I shall defend you with ribbons and pearls."

We all laughed; I strained to keep my own chuckle going. Defense? What would he care about _my_ defense? And why was Elenet suddenly so noticeably withdrawn and close?

"You will lose against my buckles and diamonds," retorted Savona with that wide grin. We turned around each other again, the challenge hanging in the air.

"Oh, I am fond of you, Russav," said Elenet wistfully when we all returned to positions better suited for conversation, "but ribbons and pearls do take my fancy more so than buckles and diamonds."

Savona pretended to be heartbroken and for a second lifted his hand from mine to wipe away an imaginary tear.

"Then may my buckles rust and my diamonds crack," he replied with a false sigh. He smiled and winked at me, eyes darting over to his cousin again. What was all that about? What was going on?

"Before you condemn your weapons," I said loftily, attempting to descry the meaning of my companies' glances, "let us first take a step in compromising diamond with ribbon and buckle with pearl." There was a small chuckle from them all. It had recently become court fashion that buckles _never_ went with pearls.

"And thus so would you begin your revolution," said Shevraeth, but after the customary laugh I retreated inside myself, trying to puzzle it out. Did that mean that he expected me to start a revolution, a real revolution, to fight for the throne in my name? _Again?_

More measures of the song, a particularly complicated step, and then the traditional swaying movements of the dance.

There were few more discourses between us. Somehow, we'd all sensed the sudden fissure that had erupted after Shevraeth's statement. He returned to his bemusement, as though he regretted what he'd said and was trying to thrust it from his memory.

Meanwhile, Savona seemed to be at a loss for words, for once. I caught a couple times the momentary puzzled look he threw Shevraeth, but the latter didn't seem to notice. And before anyone had time to recover, the dance was over.

"Meliara, I cannot express my gratitude," Savona said in his ridiculous tone. "Now I know that tomorrow I may return to court without being the laughing stock of Athanarel, forced to take sick leave."

I chuckled, feeling a mite better. Shevraeth bowed to both me and Elenet, and then excused himself and slid through the throng.

I hid myself in a corner where I was visible to those who needed me, but would otherwise blend with the decorations. I had to think about everything that I'd just seen.

_Elenet closed up, even though Shevraeth didn't_. What did that mean? Did they have a disagreement about how much I was to be trusted? _Or_, I thought with sudden dread, _if I'm to be trusted at all_. I had nothing but Shevraeth's invitation to court to suppose that he thought me trustworthy. And even that wasn't foolproof.

_Perhaps it was a test to see how I would react. Maybe he still thinks I'm after the throne_._ Or against his own rule._ It was true that I could never chase the position the way that Tamara had so lately done. Romancing the future king, the man I once thought was my blood-enemy? But, if he did suspect my intentions to be after a crown, he would scout out every possible way I could become queen.

_But that still doesn't explain Elenet's expression._ Was she angry with me? And yet she'd laughed when the others had, even if it was only a silent titter. If anyone was closed to me, it was Elenet. I didn't think I'd ever seen an authentic expression from her since the day I'd stood at the tapestry. And at the window.

Suddenly, something pieced together in my head. I couldn't determine what it was, but I knew it had something to do with Elenet and the window scene. There was some unknown factor that I couldn't place, some unknown….

And Savona, with his surreptitious peeks. Did he know about something that everyone expected already? That something being the union between a certain lady of Grumareth and a future king? It was plausible, but his bewildered expressions (for once, his court mask was less than perfect; some situation must really be troubling him) suggested far more than what the current rumors around Athanarel had claimed. I wanted so badly to talk to Oria, or Julen, or Azmus, for certainly one of the three would have words of wisdom derived of the experiences I'd been denied or in which I'd never partaken.

An overwhelming desire to seek the comforts of home—the mountains, Castle Tlanth, and of course my friends—threatened to overtake me then and there at my own party. I thrust my homesickness away, focusing instead on pleasanter thoughts about the benefits of Athanarel: the interesting company, the learning experiences, the library. And yet I craved more than anything the musty smell of Castle Tlanth's kitchen, the warmth and coziness of my own library, and the freedom of the mountains.

_No,_ I told myself as tears warned of imminent streaming. _This is _Athanarel._ Tlanth is home forever, but it is here that I may best aid my people and my county. And it is here I shall stay, regardless of my predilections to gallop home, until Tlanth's interests are appeased to the fullest. _The resolution filled and sustained me. It pervaded my senses; Tlanth was safe at last, safe while I remained here to protect it. _And Remalna, too. If only Remalna could be guaranteed a monarch worthy, no Merindar, but…._

But my guests were clamoring for attention, new entertainments were beginning, and Flauvic was staring pointedly at me. Though I felt as if, tonight, I'd been on the verge of two life-changing revelations, I let my mind wander to the mundane tasks of managing a ball that would be the talk of the town in the morning.


End file.
